After her husband passed away, Maria had him cremated and brought the ashes home in a small, polished urn. She placed it carefully on the kitchen table, straightened a napkin beneath it, and sat down, crossing her legs. She cleared her throat and leaned in like she was about to negotiate with a stubborn business partner.
“You remember that fur coat you promised me?” she asked softly, tapping the urn with her finger. “Well… I got it. With the insurance money.” She paused for dramatic effect, staring at the urn as if expecting him to nod. “Not the cheap one either—real mink, darling. You’d approve, I think.”
Maria reached for a cup of tea, then leaned forward again. “And that new car you said we’d get after our anniversary? Yeah… went ahead and bought it too. Leather seats, heated steering wheel… and I might have splurged on the premium sound system. Don’t be mad.”
She tilted her head, squinting at the urn. “Remember that trip to Paris we always talked about but never booked? Well… booked it. First-class tickets, darling. Eiffel Tower, Louvre, croissants every morning. I even reserved a little spot for you at a café—you always loved pretending you were fancy.”
Maria laughed to herself, shaking her head. “You’re going to hate me for this one, but I also bought that diamond bracelet you promised me for our tenth anniversary. I couldn’t resist! And don’t worry, I toasted to you when I tried it on.”
She leaned closer, whispering now, like sharing a secret. “And… that one last thing you always asked me about… well, I guess you’ll just have to imagine it. Let’s just say, insurance money really comes in handy.”
At that moment, her cat jumped onto the table, knocking the urn slightly. Maria swatted it back and laughed. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re both unimpressed and amused. Perfect.”
By the evening, Maria had recounted every purchase, every luxury, every adventure. She even set up a little corner with a candle and a photo album, talking to the urn as if he were sitting across from her. “See, darling? You always wanted me to be happy… and thanks to you, I am. I’m living the dream, and you’re here for moral support. Lucky you!”
As she poured herself a glass of wine, Maria imagined a little chuckle from the urn. Somewhere deep down, she knew he was laughing—mostly because he had no choice but to.